by L K Harcourt
~~~~~
‘You know something,’ said Dan, as he and John chugged into the mini harbour of the island and moored alongside the jetty, ‘I am not convinced how wise it is for us to go out in Porthlevnack tonight.’
John, pushing his mop of blond hair out of his eyes, looked at him puzzled. ‘Oh come on, we’ve had this conversation. I thought we agreed it would look a bit more natural if anything were to kick off – you know, a sort of alibi?’
‘True,’ said Dan. ‘Yet I can’t help but feel that to place ourselves visibly somewhere else from the scene of the death would be the sort of thing we’d do if we were actually involved. It would also strongly suggest that we no longer felt we had a reason to be scared of Zak or Jake. You see, if Zak were still around, bearing in mind our brush with him in the tunnels, surely the last thing we’d do would be to risk being seen by him ashore, with the island unguarded.
John nodded thoughtfully. ‘I think you might have a point,’ he said. ‘Also, the wind is getting up again, it’s blowing my hair about like I’m a scarecrow. I wouldn’t want to risk being stranded and unable to get back to the island. And perhaps we should stand guard over that treasure. When you think of all we’ve gone through to secure it, it seems wrong to leave it, even in a locked safe.’
Their minds made up, John and Dan alighted from the boat. John carried the tarpaulin under his arm. He took it to one of the more remote rock pools, unravelled it and dropped it in – it would easily be replenished with fresh sea water at high tide and unlikely to be one they would actually want to bathe in. They found some heavy stones to weigh it down so it could not be swept out to sea.
‘Can I suggest before we go inside,’ said Dan, ‘that we both leap into another rock pool and get ourselves clean? We really don’t want to risk going back into the lighthouse smelling of you-know-what.’
John agreed and the pair stripped off and threw themselves into an adjacent pool. It got less sun than the ones they usually bathed in and was cool but not freezing. They both heartily wished they had some soap to scrub themselves properly but a good soak would have to do. They got out and ran about naked for a couple of minutes to allow the sea breeze to dry them. They felt much better after that, as if cleansed of something unpleasant.
‘Let us hope that is the last we hear of him,’ said John, as they walked up the steps to the lighthouse and back inside to rejoin the girls.
CHAPTER 21
Louise and Emma were in the lounge, enjoying another glass of chilled Chardonnay. Louise had been relieved that Emma did not seem cross with her. And indeed, she wasn’t. Emma was used to Louise and her strong sexual appetite by now and was content that she had resisted.
‘Do you know what I feel like?’ asked John with a glance at the girls’ three-quarters empty wine bottle, ‘I feel like an ice cold lager after the day we’ve had. Only you know something, I’ve got a nasty feeling we forgot to chill any.’
‘Well if you recall, we were all supposed to be taking the boat ashore and going out tonight. But Louise and I had a kind of sixth sense that having been out for your fishing trip and after the day we’ve had, you might prefer just to stay in the lighthouse and chill out,’ said Emma. ‘So talking of chilling, I’ve put your favouritest beers in the fridge: John you have a top quality Belgian lager and Dan, a German wheat beer. Both in the ice compartment. Better drink them before they freeze.’
‘Oh that sounds fantastic,’ said Dan, brightening up, ‘haven’t I got a kind, loving girlfriend?’
‘Mind you,’ chipped in Louise, ‘those beers are conditional on you having brought us some fish for our supper. Did you catch anything?’
‘Erm no,’ admitted John. ‘To be truthful, we decided not to go fishing at all in the end, we just settled for a nice little saunter about in the boat, over to the headland just past the island.’
That answer puzzled Louise slightly. What on earth then, had they got wrapped in that tarpaulin and how come she had seen their boat travelling in the opposite direction? Perhaps they were going fishing but changed their minds, she pondered, as she traced her fingers round the condensation on the outside of her cold glass.
Then a thought struck her. ‘I know we’ve got the treasure safely locked up here,’ she said, ‘but I do feel strongly that we must get it reported properly and handed over to the authorities. The sooner it is out of our possession the better. I’m scared that the likes of Zak and Jake will launch some kind of attack on us soon. I’ll feel much happier when it’s no longer in this lighthouse.’
‘Dan and I have already talked about that,’ said John. ‘It will be the first thing we do tomorrow morning. In the meantime the treasure is as safe as we can make it.’
‘But what if they come over by boat?’ asked Louise.
‘Jake is petrified that the treasure is haunted and in the possession of Felipe’s phantom, and Zak has got one heck of a headache right now,’ replied John, just a touch brusquely.
‘Do you suppose Zak is ok?’ asked Emma, suddenly. ‘I did give him an awful whack with that spade. It won’t have done him any permanent harm will it?’
John and Dan looked at Emma in alarm. Dan looked as if he was about to stutter an unconvincing reply so John cut in quickly. ‘Emma, don’t worry about Zak. He will be fine. The blow knocked him out, that was all, and allowed us vital seconds to rescue Dan and get him out of that shaft. By the time he came round Zak would have found the shaft lid firmly shut and the flagstone back on top, impossible to budge from below. My guess is he limped back down the tunnel to the shore and is right now in the Smugglers Tavern as we speak, curing his headache with several glasses of ale.’
‘That being so,’ said Louise, toying with her glass, ‘we really need to act fast. Zak will be plotting his next move as he sups his beer and he’s certain to strike soon. We can’t afford any delay.’
John and Dan nodded, unable to explain to the girls that the situation was no longer quite so dangerous as they thought – at least, not in the way they might imagine. Nonetheless, those gold and silver coins were burning a hole in their pockets too. The four of them all felt they would not be able to sleep properly until the find had been reported and placed in safe hands.
None of them felt much like cooking that evening, they were simply too tired, so they feasted on a couple of tinned pies in the cupboard. They were surprisingly nice with a few boiled potatoes bought in the village the previous day. Washed down with good beer and wine, the four students spent an enjoyable evening together, but there was none of the elation and over-exuberance of the previous night down the pub when their eyes had sparkled almost as brightly as Felipe’s treasure. Their pleasure at finding that wonderful hoard was somewhat diluted by the circumstances of its retrieval and the worry over Zak and Jake. And for John and Dan, there was now the uncomfortable realisation that they had acted in a way which, however well intentioned, was illegal and might have severe consequences were their secret ever to come to light.
They were not late to bed that night and although convinced they wouldn’t sleep a wink they were all tired. It felt slightly odd at first to Emma, that she should find herself again sharing a room and a bed with Dan – she wasn’t used to having a man with her at night and she found herself suddenly feeling a little shy.
They snuggled up together under the duvet, Dan’s eyes gazing tenderly at his girlfriend. He held her tightly and protectively to his chest and stroked her neck. Thank heaven she does not know what really happened to Zak, he thought. Dan lifted her chin up gently and placed his lips against hers. They kissed, not passionately, but with the slow, deep affection of two people, both in their own ways rather vulnerable, who had come together and found each other.
As they embraced, that bond between them grew stronger. Their hands caressed each other’s bodies but in just a loving way on that occasion – the kind of touch which said that what they had was more than mere physical attraction. Emma noticed the difference between the delicate, affectionate m
ovements of Dan’s long, slender hands, and the hungry fingers of Louise always seeking carnal satisfaction. As she drifted to sleep in the arms of her lover and soulmate, Emma felt content and secure. And as his eyes closed, Dan felt relief that he and John had taken such swift action earlier – unpleasant, frightening and risky but done for the right reasons, to protect a good, sweet person.
In what was now John and Louise’s bedroom, the only sound to be heard was the heavy breathing of deep sleep. Louise, rather deflated from her earlier unsuccessful attempt at seducing Emma, went straight off, as soon as her head touched the pillow. And John, wearied after such a long, strange day, was not far behind her.
CHAPTER 22
If the four had anticipated a restless night worrying about their treasure they were mistaken. They all slept like logs until the bright early morning sunshine pouring through the windows finally roused them. They gathered in the kitchen whereupon Louise nervously opened the safe to check nothing had been taken during the night. It was all there.
They felt refreshed and relaxed. Emma got the kettle on and set about making a decent fry-up as a treat for their hard work the previous day. They had some excellent local eggs, bacon and sausages from the butcher in Porthlevnack which smelled delicious as they sizzled in the pan.
‘You cannot beat a cup of strong tea and a full English breakfast,’ declared John, wiping a piece of crusty bread round his plate. ‘Those fat sausages full of herbs and onion are just unbeatable. I wish we could get them like that at home.’
The others agreed. With that breakfast inside them, they were ready to face the day. Their first task was to get the treasure officially reported. John rang Cornwall Council on his mobile for their advice.
He was put through to the council’s Finds Liaison Officer and described the hoard to him and that they thought it was from a Spanish ship that had foundered in 1780. ‘Oh,’ said John, looking surprised. He scribbled down some information on a piece of paper, thanked the officer and said goodbye.
‘That was a short phone call,’ said Dan in astonishment. ‘What has he told you to do?’
‘Well, he said that it sounded remarkable but it’s not a matter for the council or the coroner because it isn’t treasure but salvage from a wreck lost at sea, so we have to report it to the Receiver of Wreck, part of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency. He says that property found in the sea or seashore from a ship constitutes ‘wreck’ which can’t be treasure because it wasn’t buried with the intention to recover it.’
Dan shook his head. ‘I don’t think that’s right,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s not because there’ll be a delay of around a year or more usually to see if legitimate owners can be traced and all we would qualify for is some sort of token salvors’ award for having scooped it up. Let me ring that finds liaison guy back and have a word, I know a bit about these things.’
‘Look,’ said Dan, firmly, when he got through to him, ‘this is not salvage from a wreck because it was not lost at sea when the ship foundered. It was property retained or retrieved by the ship’s captain who survived the sinking. He then took it ashore and chose, quite deliberately, to store these items that we found on a rock ledge in a cave beneath the seabed, accessible via a tunnel from an island in the bay where we are currently staying and which is owned by my friend Louise’s parents.
‘He clearly had every intention of recovering these items because he stored a change of clothing and a cutlass with them, including a number of other personal effects and also wrote about having done so in a diary which I myself have partially translated from Spanish.’
There was a pause and the others looked in admiration at Dan who was living up to his reputation as a brain box and the most academic among them.
‘Yes, that’s right, 1780,’ they heard him say. ‘Yes I know that makes the find under 300 years old but the law of treasure trove still applies I think you’ll find if you look it up.’
‘Right ok, see you in a bit then,’ they heard Dan say after a short pause.
‘He’s coming over by boat later on,’ said Dan. ‘He wants to talk to us and take a look at the hoard himself – and yes, he agrees, it may well be treasure. That’s good news because if it is declared to be treasure we are likely to get the full market value. But he says that will be up to the Coroner who will most likely have to hold an inquest.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Emma, ‘I know you mentioned inquests the other night in the pub but I always thought coroners only held inquests into deaths – when people die in strange circumstances.’
‘That’s mainly what they do,’ replied Dan. ‘But they also conduct inquests into finds of antiquities – in England and Wales anyway. I know a bit about the law on salvage and treasure because a couple of old schoolmates of mine are mad keen on metal-detecting and a while back they found centuries-old gold goblets and it was declared treasure at an inquest. And I know a couple of lads at uni who dive wrecks in the summer holidays. If they find anything, it’s all governed by strict rules to stop the wrecks being plundered. I’m no expert but it’s better that this is declared treasure and not salvage.’
‘Sounds like you know a lot more than that council officer,’ said John.
‘I’d guess he was a bit young and inexperienced, replied Dan, modestly, pleased to show off his knowledge. ‘First he said it was legally ‘wreck’ until I disputed it. Then he said that the new law of treasure only applied to gold and silver that was 300 years old. But I pointed out to him that the old law of treasure trove still applies to precious metals under this age. Anyway, he sounded eager to help. His eyes will be popping out of his head when he sees what we’ve got to show him!’
~~~~~
Later that morning, the finds liaison officer from Cornwall Council duly turned up, chauffeured over in a council motor boat. Only Louise was around to greet him. John and Dan had disappeared on some errand in the outbuilding and Emma had a headache and had gone for a lie down.
‘Hello,’ said Louise, smiling cheerily and stretching out her hand as the finds liaison officer stepped rather clumsily from the boat. ‘I’m Louise Locksley. Welcome to Wreckers Island. You must be Mr Spencer?’
‘Oh, call me Rupert,’ said Rupert Spencer, shaking hands and grinning back at her. He was a rather strange, gauche-looking type who did indeed look young and inexperienced – in more ways than one, surmised Louise. He was one of those tall, gangly, studious types with round, metal-rimmed spectacles and slightly goofy teeth which made him look a little like a horse when he chuckled, which he did rather often.
Rupert seemed a bit nervous to find himself alone in the company of a stunning, Amazonesque young woman like Louise. His eyes, she noticed, were immediately drawn to her cleavage which was fairly well defined that day running beneath her tight T-shirt which she’d knotted up exposing her bare olive-brown midriff. He also seemed pretty taken with the long, smooth contours of her legs.
Louise waited patiently for him to drink in the view before saying, ‘right, shall we go inside and you can take a look.’
‘Oh yes please,’ replied Rupert, chuckling again, ‘I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.’ He went bright red at this point and attempted a camouflaging giggle but it came out more like a horse wheezing.
‘Now, now,’ said Louise, smiling, ‘I thought you were here to look at our treasure.’
Delighted that he hadn’t offended her by accidentally appearing too forward, Rupert lurched into over-confident mode and, blushing again, said in a rather camp tone, ‘well Louise, I’m sure you’ve got a few hidden treasures yourself.’
What a prat, thought Louise, irritated at his over familiarity and school-boy attempt at being saucy. I could eat this chump for breakfast if we hadn’t already had such a good one. How could a man in his late 20s be all overcome and blushing and giggly just because he was alone with an attractive woman? Maybe, she mused, he had never had a woman – ever. She didn’t fancy him at all but perhaps it was time he learned to grow up a bit and
realise there was more to life than public libraries and archaeology digs.
‘Follow me into the lounge,’ said Louise. ‘Would you like a cup of tea or anything?’
‘Oh yes,’ replied Rupert. ‘Tea would be splendid, quite milky and no sugar if that’s ok.’
‘Coming up!’ replied Louise breezily. She went into the kitchen, put the kettle on and then slipped upstairs to check on Emma. She was fast asleep with a cool strip on her forehead. She must be having one of her migraines, she thought. Louise opened the wardrobe and took out her shortest skirt. She slipped out of her shorts and purple knickers and put on a lacy pair of white ones. She pulled her skirt over the top. A glance through the window indicated that the boys were not yet finished in the outbuilding.
Louise returned downstairs to the kitchen and made Rupert his ‘quite milky’ cup of tea. He was already seated on the sofa in the lounge and Louise handed him the tea before perching herself on the arm of the chair directly opposite.
‘I’m sorry to be a pain Rupert,’ said Louise. ‘The lads are not yet back from something they’re attending to in the outbuilding and Emma’s got a lousy headache. Do you mind if we hang on a bit for them before looking at what we’ve found? I just think it’s something the others should be part of. I hate to keep you because I know how busy you must be.’
‘Oh no, I’m just fine here,’ he said, giving another goofy grin. ‘Nice to just relax and enjoy the view. Erm, I mean it’s such a lovely place here isn’t it, surrounded by the sea on all sides,’ he said, hurriedly, reddening again. He seemed genuinely embarrassed that time, maybe he thought it was one double entendre too many. Louise wasn’t sure whether that one was intentional or not. Either way, to her satisfaction, he most certainly seemed to be enjoying the view, and not just the one out to sea.